


do i wanna know (if this feeling flows both ways)

by harryydarling



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blowjobs, Happy Ending, M/M, Porn With Plot, Smut, idk - Freeform, this is just a mess i apologize
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 22:43:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harryydarling/pseuds/harryydarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles is a world famous pop star throwing a New Year's Eve party and Louis Tomlinson caters at this party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	do i wanna know (if this feeling flows both ways)

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm putting this up today for obvious reasons, in hopes that you can celebrate the New Year with a little bit of harryandlouis. What a better way to celebrate, right?  
> Anyway, I do not own One Direction or any of the celebrities mentioned in this piece of writing. Nor am I affiliated with them in any way. This is all fictional and just for kicks.  
> And I would also like to make one last note and point out that I am very aware that the Fourth of July is not celebrated in the UK. Or anywhere other than the US for that matter. Just bear with me, please.  
> Finally, enjoy! :)

Louis is peeved. Okay, more than peeved. He is _pissed._ He just hung up with his boss, and is now laying on his back staring at the ceiling, wondering why such terrible things happen to such good people. Okay, so Louis may be one for the dramatics, but still. _Why_ does this have to happen to him?

It’s not like he didn’t have other plans for New Year’s. He was actually very much planning on visiting his mum; whom he hasn’t seen since last year at Christmas. Well, he can kiss those plans goodbye.

Literally the _last_ thing he wants to do is work over New Year’s. All it’s going to be is him surrounded by people drunk off their ass, trying to get them to take the hors d’oeuvres that he only spent hours preparing. And better yet, _famous_ people. People who think they have the right to stomp all over him and make him do whatever the hell they want him to.

Trust him, he’s been in that position before. Working for one of London’s most highly ranked catering businesses has its faults. Take this past 4th of July as an example. He had to miss his family’s annual barbecue to cater at Katy Perry’s 4th of July party at her beach home in Venice. Sure, the view was great and the house was ginormous, but that didn’t compensate the headache that he got from listening to Firework only 50 times over. But that’s not the worst part. Rihanna must have had a few too many jello shots and poor Ri Ri wasn’t feeling very well. And as she was reaching for probably her tenth jello shot, hand on Louis’ shoulder to steady herself, she vomited all over his uniform. And not only did he have to excuse himself from his station, but he had to go and wipe Rihanna puke off his front.

Now, before you say you’d be honored to have Rihanna’s bodily fluids on you and all this shit, you should probably reevaluate your choices. Because when Rhianna’s bodily fluids are green and smell like someone shit in a bowl of jello, you won’t be praising the heavens above.

Okay, again, dramatics. Louis’ job isn’t _that_ bad. He actually kind of enjoys it most days. He gets to do what he loves, which is cook. The downside is that he has to serve the food that he cooks. In an ideal world, he would stay in the kitchen and spend eight hours a day making the meals that his 6 year Uni degree allows him to. Instead, he’s making hors d’oeuvres that he has to carry around on a platter and shove under people’s noses so they’ll actually take something.

And his job gets particularly difficult when the people he’s serving have this notion in their heads that they’re better than everyone else. Which is why he’s not at all looking forward to catering at Harry Style’s New Year’s house party. Being number one in the pop industry must give one a big head. And he doubts Harry Styles is any different. At least, that’s what he’s read in all the tabloids.

No, he doesn’t know Harry Styles personally. And yes, he’s heard the saying ‘never judge a book by its cover’. But he’s seen enough of these fame enriched people in his lifetime to know how they are. And he can tell you right now that Harry Styles is exactly like the rest of them.

Either way, New Year’s Eve is tomorrow, and he has to head over to the kitchen to start preparing the hors d’oeuvres. So, he lazily climbs out of bed, and with his haste left far behind, takes a long shower, trying to rid himself of the stress he is now under.

And if he pursues a long, slow wank as well, he blames the dry spell he’s had for the past couple months. Not Harry Styles, alright? _Not_ Harry Styles.

*

“You’re kidding right?” Louis is reading over the list of hors d’oeuvres that Harry Styles wants at his party. “Did he seriously ask for Lobster Salad Canapes? What kind of party is this?” Louis continues to read over the list and raise his eyebrows at the choices this guy made. Is it New Year’s Eve or a cocktail party? The list has items such as, goat cheese crackers with red pepper jelly and smoked salmon and cucumber sandwiches. But then in contrast, in the drinks section he put, vodka shots, jello shots, and pints. These things just don’t add up. “Who does this guy think he is?”

Niall, his best mate and colleague standing next to him just gives an indifferent shrug. “I don’t know. But why does it really matter? The dude can order whatever he wants.”

Louis’ eyebrows crease at his friend’s tone. “Okay, geez, who shit in your cornflakes this morning?”

“Dave did when he called me in to work today and tomorrow. Mate, I had plans this weekend. Ones that didn’t include barf stained rugs.” Niall sighs and goes back to mixing the crème fraiche with dill to set aside for the smoked salmon and cucumber sandwiches.

“Tell me about it. I was actually planning on visiting my family this year. But instead I risk another incident of getting vomited on by Rhianna.” Louis starts chopping mushrooms.

Niall gives him a quizzical look along with a disbelieving squeak. “What was that?”

“I never told you about that?” Niall shakes his head. “Oh, well boy do I have a humdinger for you.”

Louis recites the story for probably what has to be the 20th time. It becomes quite the entertainment at get togethers and family affairs.

“You’re shitting me right?” Louis shakes his head. “You actually got Rihanna’s puke on your uniform?”

“That’s right, mate. I consider Ri Ri a close friend now that we’ve exchanged bodily fluids.” Niall barks out a laugh at that one.

“You mean, it was this uniform that she vomited on?” Niall says, running a hand down Louis’ stomach.

“No, you freak! I exchanged that one. I couldn’t get the smell out of it.” Louis steps away from Niall’s touch.

“Now why would you do that? I’d want to at least keep the memento.”

“Because I’m not a sick perv like you.” Louis teases with a bump of their shoulders.

“Maybe it’s because you’re not into vagina. Maybe if it were Harry Styles’ vomit you’d keep the uniform.”

“Ha. I don’t think so. He seems like a bit of a prick to me.” Louis shrugs.

“Have you ever met the bloke?”

“Well, no. But it’s not that hard to figure out. He’s the biggest thing in the pop industry, how can he _not_ be a douchebag.”

“Maybe he has a big heart?” Niall puts a hand over his heart and bumps his hip into Louis’.

“Have you read the tabloids?”

“Dude, those don’t mean shit.”

*

Louis spent eight hours in the kitchen that day, and has to go back early tomorrow morning to finish up with the foods that couldn’t sit overnight. Dave is making a big deal out of this job. Well, more so than the other jobs, at least. He’s not stupid, he knows that this event is important. But he just doesn’t see how this is any more important than James Franco’s New Year’s party last year. He _knows_ that they didn’t have this much pressure on them for that one.

Besides that, he had to call his mom this afternoon to tell her that he won’t be able to make it for New Years. Of course she was upset, but she understood. The worst part is that there is no telling when the next time he’ll be able to see her is. He hasn’t visited in over a year. And of course she made a point to talk about his sisters for a majority of the time. As if he didn’t already feel bad enough.

Really, there’s nothing he can do about it. So he’s just going to go to bed early so he can mentally prepare himself for what he’s going to have to endure tomorrow night.

*

Niall’s pumped. Like, stirring the spicy peanut butter dipping sauce with so much vigor the bowl might break, pumped. And Louis’ head hurts.

“Niall, would you cut that out. You’re supposed to mix it, not puree it.” Louis steps away from his sautéing mushrooms and presses his fingers against his temples.

“Dude, who crapped in _your_ cornflakes this morning?”

“This fucking job, that’s who.” Louis grumbles angrily.

“Why can’t you just feel honored that you’re actually going to step inside a world famous pop star’s house and serve hors d’oeuvres to famous people?” Niall is grinning ear to ear. It’s too early for this.

“Trust me, Ni. It’s not as great as it seems. And besides, you were just as upset about it yesterday.”

“I think I was just tired. And I didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast, either. You know how I get without my Wheaties. Just, quit being such a Scrooge and watch your mushrooms before their charred.”

As Louis is finishing up the mushroom and cheese toasts, he listens to all the excited chatter going on around him. Okay, so maybe he is being a bit of a scrooge, as Niall put it. But that doesn’t change his opinion on the people he’s going to be serving tonight. Really, he’s just trying to warn his coworkers in advance. Really, they should _thank_ him. If they actually listened to him.

The ‘party’ (Louis still isn’t entirely convinced that this isn’t a black tie event considering the list of appetizers the guy ordered) starts at 8 and is supposed to run until 2. Thankfully they only have to serve until 12. They expect everybody to be full and sloppy drunk by then. And if the drunk part becomes a problem, apparently they also have an open bar, so.

It’s only 4 right now, and the last few touches are being made to the hors d’oeuvres. Garnishes being added to the platters, sprinkles of salt added to the potatoes, little things. Then they were sent home to _freshen up or whatever you need to do to make yourselves presentable. Don’t fuck this up. Please._ In the wise words of Dave. Yeah, you could say he was under a little stress himself.

When Louis got home, he decided to take a half hour power nap, and then take a quick shower. Despite his reluctance towards this event, he still wants to look presentable. It is his job after all, and in spite of popular belief, he really _doesn’t_ want to fuck this up. He needs to make money somehow.

So after his shower, he blow dries his hair and styles it into a quiff. He doesn’t often wear it like this, mostly just swept to the side. But he knows he looks good like this, so he might as well. He pulls on the uniform that he’s required to wear, along with the rest of the staff. Black button-up dress shirt, tucked into black dress pants, black belt with a silver buckle, and black shoes. The women wear black dresses with black heels. So basically, they’re all going on a night raid.

Whatever, Louis has to admit he looks pretty damn sexy. Black definitely looks good on him. The pants fit snug – but not too snug – around his waist, and the shirt hugs his waist, making him look slimmer in the middle. And the pants are snug in the thighs, accentuating his bum. If he were to go out in this outfit, he would sure get laid. Potentially in the toilets even. He looks that good. Add that to the list of perks this job allows.

He heads back over to the kitchen around 6:30 to help load the truck. They need to be over to the Styles residence by 7:30 to get set up. He takes a deep breath and heads out the door.

*

Louis is pissed. Even more so than yesterday morning. The source of his sour mood is standing half way across the room, right in front of him. And he goes by the name Harry Styles.

But the trouble isn’t that he’s a giant fucking prick like Louis expected. No, in fact, Harry is literal sunshine. _That’s_ the problem here. He can no longer hate this job with all of his might. Not now that the source of his hatred is seriously the nicest person he’s ever seen.

Seriously, all Harry has done for the first half hour of _his_ party, Louis would like to point out, is greet people. That’s it. All he does is go up to people and either shake their hand or hug them. For some reason this pisses Louis off. Almost as if this job would be made a lot more bearable if Harry was a right dick.

Louis doesn’t know what to do with himself. He got stuck with the tray of vodka shots, which means he’s going to deal with people all night. But it also means that he can’t go and wave them under people’s noses. So he just stands there and waits for the party to really pick up and people start to hound him for a shot.

That is, until there’s a lanky, surprisingly lithe, boy standing in front of him. He just kind of hovers there with this grin on his face that Louis’ pretty sure could cure cancer and bring world peace.

“Um, hi.” Louis tries to break this awkward staring contest that seems to have taken place. Harry is surprisingly beautiful. Wow.

Harry seems to break out of his trance. And in doing so, trips over his own feet and stumbles right in front of Louis’ station. Okay, Louis takes back the lithe part. “Oops,” he giggles. Fucking _giggles._ “Hi.” He extends his hand.

This boy is strange, to say the least. Endearing? Undoubtedly. But strange nonetheless. But rudeness would get him nowhere, so he takes the boy’s hand. The way that Harry’s hand seems to completely cover his own, does something to him. He’s not sure what. But something.

“Thank you. You know, for supplying the, uh, vodka shots and all. It would be a shame to go to a party without them.”

“Well, I didn’t actually prepare them. I’m just serving them.” Louis tries his hardest not to be rude.

“Well, I’m lucky to have such a good-looking bloke handing them out. Won’t be able to keep that tray full.” Harry gives him wink and walks away. Just like that.

Louis doesn’t quite know what to do, or say, or anything really. He’s shocked. He just got hit on by a world famous pop star. And he didn’t even think Harry was gay. Maybe bisexuality is big in the industry these days? Louis wouldn’t know. Either way, Louis is flustered to say the least.

He tries not to think about it too much. Mostly because his pants are much too tight for the effect the tall, lanky boy has on him.

*

The party has officially begun and is now in full force. Louis tries not to watch Harry too closely, but he can’t help but catch the milky length of his throat as he throws back one of the jello shots Niall is handing out. He also can’t help but catch the smirk Harry throws his way when he’s caught staring. Fuck.

Louis tries not to be helplessly turned on. But it’s a futile fight. The beautiful boy with curly hair and evergreen eyes is a captivating sight as he grinds and writhes on every guy in the place. So, apparently it is openly known in the industry that Harry is gay. Louis has yet to see Harry touch a woman even half as provocatively as he has half the men in the room. Which is good news for Louis.

And it seems that Niall has caught on as well.

Niall has continuously given Louis a look that consists of raised eyebrows and not-so-subtle head nods. And each time, Louis either ignores him or gives him a hard glare. If looks could kill.

But nonetheless, Louis is irrevocably turned on by the lengthy and muscular boy currently grinding on Jaymi from Union J. Well.

Louis is getting frustrated. Not just sexually, mind you. People keep coming up to him wanting shots and shouting orders at him. He just wants to watch Harry Styles dance, goddamnit. But apparently he has a job to do, so that puts a damper on things.

Whatever, there’s one perk to running the shot station; he can sneak a couple. Yeah, sure, this isn’t the best way to secure your job, but hey. It takes the edge off the frustration (both sexually and mentally). He’ll probably get shit for it, especially from Niall who’s already giving him disapproving looks. But right now, he couldn’t care less.

*

The hour is closing in on eleven, and most of the people are smashed. Louis’ edging on tipsy himself, about one shot away. He’s trying to refrain himself, knowing that if he starts tripping over his station someone is bound to find out.

But as he sees Harry walking towards him from across the room, he thinks _fuck it_ and throws another one back. Yeah, yeah he’s a terrible person. But _god_ this boy is too much. His pants are becoming alarmingly tight.

He tries to readjust himself as Harry comes to stand in front him.

“Hello there,” Harry slurs, obviously drunk off his ass.

“Hey, pretty great party you have going here,” Louis knows he sounds lame, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

“Yeah. I’m especially fond of the catering service.” Harry smirks and Louis swallows thickly.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, I just can’t get over how cute some of the servers are.” Louis laughs at that. Harry is becoming less and less subtle and Louis finds it incredibly endearing.

“Some of them are pretty good-looking, yes.” Louis nods, just trying to edge him on.

“I really like that blonde one over there, what do you think?” Louis chokes on his own saliva. Well that was unexpected. Louis’ almost positive he’s kidding, but still.

“Oh, Niall? Yeah, he’s pretty cute. I guess.” Louis fumbles over his words, much to his dismay.

Harry looks at him for a long moment. “Babe, I was kidding. You know that you’re the only one I’ve been eyeing this whole night.” Harry chuckles as if it’s supposed to be obvious. Louis’ cheeks flare, from both the insinuation and his use of the word babe.

“Really?” Louis squeaks. God, he’s such a school girl.

“Yeah.” Harry leans over to whisper in Louis’ ear, “Hey, how about we get out of here for a little while?”

“But, uh, it’s your party. You can’t just leave your guests.”

“Sure I can. Like you said, it’s my party. I can do whatever the hell I want.” Harry smiles mischievously and a wave of adrenaline rushes through Louis’ veins.

“But, my station.” Louis gestures to the half full tray of shot glasses filled to the brim with vodka.

“I’m sure they can get along without you for an hour or two. Everyone’s pretty wasted already. Besides, we stop giving out alcohol at midnight.”

Midnight, that’s right. “But won’t you miss the countdown then?”

“Jesus, Louis. Do you want to do this or not? And besides, I wouldn’t mind you being my midnight kiss.”

And, wait, how did he know his name? Oh, right. Damn name tags.

“Um, yeah, just- just a second.” Louis grabs the tray that sat on top of the station and places it on a shelf behind where the bottles of vodka and extra shot glasses are. This way it at least looks a little less conspicuous. “Okay.” Louis sighs and looks at Harry.

“You ready?” Harry asks, dimples on display.

Louis nods his head, and Harry grabs his hand. He leads them to the right, where Louis knows there’s a staircase. Upstairs, right. Louis’ trying to wrap his head around this whole situation. What is he thinking? He’s letting this attractive young, _superstar_ , lead him to – what he assumes is – his bedroom. This totally goes against his morals (okay, not really, but _still_ ). And just yesterday he was totally convinced that he hated this guy. Sure, he didn’t actually know him, but this is still quite the alteration.

Before Louis really has any time to change his mind, he’s being lead into a room just to the right of the staircase. Harry turns on the light and he can tell right away that it’s the master bedroom. But before he can get a full grasp of his surroundings, Harry is crowding him, pushing him up against the door.

Louis looks up at Harry, the height difference suddenly at the forefront of his mind. Harry seems so intimidating, and he’s not used to being in this position. Especially not in sexual situations.

Before he can try to get his dominating role back in place, Harry is dropping to his knees, and Louis no longer cares. Louis braces himself against the door, with his fingers gripping on the smooth surface searching for a grip that isn’t there.

Harry’s fingers start on the belt of his uniform, his stare never leaving Louis. Louis is growing impossibly hard in his jeans, bucking his hips towards Harry in hopes of him speeding up.

Harry chuckles lowly and says, “Eager now, are we?”

“Just shut up and get these pants off me.” Louis groans, not caring if he sounds rude or not.

Harry raises his eyebrows. “Yes, sir.”

Louis watches as Harry slowly pulls down his zipper and works his jeans down his legs. His hard prick makes an obvious tent in his navy blue boxer briefs. When Louis’ pants are successfully around his ankles, Harry mouths at Louis’ dick through his boxers. Louis gasps, head thrown back at the warm sensation on his hard-on. Harry presses soft kisses to him, wetting the fabric.

Harry looks at him through long eyelashes, teasing his fingers into the waistband of his underwear. He finally releases Louis from his confines, his dick fully hard; precome leaking from the tip.

Harry starts by kissing up his thighs, nibbling here and there. He stops at one very tender part of his thigh and leaves a large, red mark on Louis’ tan skin. Louis’ legs are already shaking and Harry hasn’t even touched him yet.

Harry finally does, wrapping his hand around his shaft and giving a couple experimental strokes. “God, you’re so hard already.” Harry rubs his thumb over the head, smearing the precome bubbling at the tip. Louis groans and bucks his hips, desperate for Harry’s mouth.

Harry licks his lips, and wraps them around the flush head of Louis’ cock. He sucks experimentally, and Louis lets out a lengthy moan, serving as motivation for Harry. He swallows Louis down until his nose reaches Louis’ stomach and his dick is sitting at the back of his throat. Harry stays still for a second, flexing his throat against Louis, building him up.

Harry’s mouth is white hot and fucking glorious. “God, Harry, your mouth is sinful.” Louis says, looking down at Harry’s bright pink lips wrapped around the base of his cock. Harry moans, Louis’ words going straight to his gut; his own dick feeling incredibly restrained inside his jeans. The vibrations of his throat cause a shiver to crawl up Louis’ spine. Louis is trying incredibly hard not to buck up and fuck Harry’s throat.

Harry decides to move and starts bobbing his head. Each time he goes down, Louis’ cock hits the back of his throat, nearly making him gag.

Louis is getting incredibly close, and runs a hand through Harry’s hair, tugging at the curls near the back of his head. Harry practically purrs at that. So Louis does it again. He can see Harry’s hand working at the button of his jeans and push them down his hips, freeing his achingly hard cock. Louis can feel the heat in his lower stomach build up, and tugs on Harry’s hair as warning.

Harry doesn’t relent. He keeps the suction and hollows his cheek so Louis can see the outline of his cock moving in his mouth. The sight is excruciatingly hot and sends him to his climax. He releases in Harry’s mouth and Harry takes it gratefully with a moan to boot. He swallows thickly, and sucks Louis clean.

Louis notices Harry’s dick, standing tall, head a bright pink. But before Louis can say anything, Harry is hoisting himself up and leading Louis over to the four poster bed in the middle of the room. Harry sits on the edge of the bed, lightly pushing on Louis’ shoulder indicating for him to kneel down in front of him. Louis does as told and looks up at Harry, hands on his thighs.

Harry is leaning back on his forearms, watching Louis with heavy lidded eyes.

“I want you to fuck my mouth.” Louis says. Harry’s dick twitches at his words, and Harry nods his head shakily.

Louis starts by pumping Harry’s cock a couple times, smearing the precome as a sort of lubrication. He wraps his lips around the head and immediately takes as much of Harry as he can. Harry’s hips buck unconsciously; Louis gags, making his eyes water. He doesn’t pull off though, and looks at Harry through his eyelashes. Harry gives him a questioning look, and Louis nods to give the go ahead.

Harry thrusts his hips up, hitting the back of Louis’ throat and then pulls back so only the head is in his mouth. Louis just keeps his jaw slack and takes it. He’s not particularly used to the feeling of being used, but he can’t say he minds it.

Louis’ throat flexes against Harry’s cock and it earns a strangled moan from him. “Christ, fuck, Louis. I’m close.” Harry’s thrusts become spastic and quick. It only takes a couple more thrusts and Harry’s shooting his load down Louis’ throat. He tastes sweet, kind of like pineapple. Louis pulls off and sits back on his haunches.

Harry lies back on the bed and sighs. “Jesus, that was hot.”

*

Louis wakes up and the first thing he sees is curly brown hair. And the first thing he feels is his arms around Harry. He’s not quite sure how they ended up in this position; he knows they weren’t like this when he fell asleep. But now they’re a mess of limbs, and he desperately needs to move. Harry’s ass is pushing directly into his groin and the hard bump in his pants isn’t necessarily the subtlest form of seduction.

He tries his hardest to untangle himself without waking Harry. He succeeds for the most part, Harry only stirring a little bit. He tiptoes across the room, picking up articles of his clothing as he goes. He pulls them on and hurries out the door.

***

Harry’s frustrated. Frustrated at himself, frustrated at the damn party, and frustrated at Louis. When he chose to take Louis upstairs with him, he didn’t mean for it to be a one night thing. He may have seemed a little too promiscuous for his intentions, but he’s really not that type of person. He never shags just for the heck of it. He’s a little hurt that Louis would think that. Otherwise, why would he let Louis stay the night?

Whatever. Either way, he needs to find him.

***

It’s been about a month and a half since whatever happened between Louis and Harry happened. Valentine’s Day is tomorrow, and Louis’ been called back into work for another ‘high-profile’ job as Dave put it. Which basically means stress.

And when Louis finds out who’s party they’re supposed to be serving at, he feels like he’s about to poop out his intestines.

“I don’t know what you guys did at the guy’s New Year’s party, but I’m not complaining. Just keep him happy, alright?” Louis flushes bright read at Dave’s words. He know they weren’t entitled specifically for him, but he can almost guarantee that he’s the reason Harry wants them to cater his fucking _Valentine’s Day_ party. Either that, or he really, really like those Lobster Salad Canapes.

He can’t do this. He _cannot._ He’s just, uh, not feeling well. Sort of. Yeah, he’ll go with that.

***

Louis’ not at his Valentine’s Day party. He’s pissed and moody, and he didn’t even need caterers for this party. A waste of money is what it is. He fends off any and all advances for him to dance. All he wants to do is sulk. And even more so, all he wants is Louis.

His first mistake was not getting his number. Or even his last name. Seriously, do you think he wanted to call in for them to cater this party? No. But of course the catering company doesn’t give out personal information and he obviously can’t find him in the phonebook or anything. There’s an endless amount of Louis’ in London, he’s found out (from his Facebook search. Hey, it’s better than nothing).

***

“Why do you keep avoiding him?” Niall pesters as he slides the pan into the oven. “Just face him and get it over with.”

 “I can’t just _face him_ , Niall. It’s not that simple.”

“Not that simple? What are you talking about?”

“It’s just- I don’t know. It’ just not, okay?”

***

“Mate. You need to stop catering from that place. Sure, their Canapes are to die for, but even I’m getting sick of them.” Zayn says, sitting next to him on the leather couch.

“I just need to find him, Zee.” It’s been six months and he’s hired their catering business to serve at every holiday and birthday party he’s thrown.

“I understand. But there surely has to be a different way to go about it.”

“What? Just bust down the doors and demand to see him? I don’t think so.”

***

“Dude, this is the eight time we’re catering for him. Just go to see him so we can stop. Please.” It’s October 29th, and they’re preparing for Harry’s Halloween party. Louis sighs and his shoulders slump. Okay, so Niall has a point. This is all getting a bit ridiculous. Even Dave is starting to get annoyed by Harry’s need to have them cater at every party he throws. _Can’t he just put out chips and punch like a normal person? Jesus Christ._ To put it in his exact words.

“Fine. Fine!” Louis throws down the washcloth he was holding. “I’ll go. I’ll talk to him. Whatever.”

 Niall practically jumps into his arms as thanks.

***

There he is. Right across from where Harry is sitting. He’s stuck with the spring rolls this time, which means Harry gets to watch him walk around for a little while, offering them to people.

But never to him. Never to him.

If Harry is reading all the signs right, he would say that Louis is ignoring him. Which, sure, Louis is the one that left without a goodbye. Or even a name. But why can’t Louis just read his signs. All he wants is to talk to him and make his feelings known (and maybe fuck him into oblivion until the sun rises, but that’s for his mind only).

***

Louis can feel it. The staring. He knows that Harry is looking at him like he wants to devour him, but he doesn’t know what to do about it. It’s just so weird, the whole thing. It was supposed to be a one night thing – at least, that’s what he thought. Maybe Harry wanted more than that? But even if that’s the case, he doesn’t know how he feels about it.

Whatever. He’s been ignoring Harry for the past half hour, handing out these spring rolls that he wouldn’t personally eat twice. He takes a deep breath and heads over to where Harry is sitting at the island in his kitchen.

Harry sees him heading his way before he’s half way across the room.

“Um, do you want a spring roll?” Louis mentally smacks himself. Smooth, Tommo. What a way to start the conversation.

But Harry just smiles brightly and says, “Sure.”

Harry grabs one off the platter and wraps his mouth around it. Louis can’t help but think back to 10 months ago, when that spring roll was his cock. Okay, weird visual.

“So, uh, we need to talk.” Louis says, finally cutting to the chase.

“Yeah, I agree.” Harry nods. “Follow me?”

Louis nods and sets down his tray. Harry walks ahead of Louis, leading him to where he’s already been.

The door shuts behind Louis and Harry immediately starts talking. “Louis, I don’t know what you thought my intentions were when I brought you up here ten months ago, but I can tell you that it wasn’t just to shag you and send you on your way.” Harry walks over to the bed and sits down, patting the spot to his right, indicating for Louis to sit next to him. He does. “I didn’t really know how I felt about you then- obviously, because I hadn’t even talked to you. All I knew was that you were attractive, and I wanted to get to know you better. I don’t really know why I thought bringing you to my room to blow you was the way to go about it, but whatever. I still don’t know that much about you, but I would still like the chance.”

Without a full understanding of what he’s doing, Louis stands up. “Louis?” Harry questions, thinking he is going to leave the room.

But to his surprise, Louis stands in front of him, and after situating himself, climbs onto his lap and straddles him. Harry is watching him with questioning eyes, not quite knowing where this is going to go.

Louis looks at Harry’s lips and back to his eyes. He really, really wants to kiss the boy underneath him. And with a little motivation from Harry tilting his head, he does. Harry’s lips are as light and soft as a feather. Testing and nervous. Louis attempts to deepen it by running his tongue across his bottom lip.

But Harry doesn’t allow access and instead pulls back. Louis’ eyebrows crease and Harry shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, Louis. I want this, I really do. I just need to know if you’re going to be here tomorrow morning when I wake up. Because despite what you may think, I don’t do one night stands.” Harry’s eyes are shiny green and pleading.

Louis just shakes his head with a small smile. He leans back in, and with lips a centimeter away from Harry’s, whispers one word. “Yes.” And that’s enough to answer all of Harry’s questions.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hoped you enjoyed this and I'm incredibly sorry if it sucked.  
> Kudos and comments would be spectacular! :)  
> Feel free to follow me on [Tumblr](http://hotcocoa-styles.tumblr.com/) !


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